Nightmares
by Gotham's Siren
Summary: Batman, a symbol of vengeance, of hope for the people of Gotham. But, even the strong have moments of weakness, Batman is no exception.  Bruce/Batman/ Jim Gordon friendship fic.


_Hello! This is my first TDK story….at least the first that I have published, I'm writing one with my partner Elerrina Star __, which is nearly finished….but not quite. _

_Anyways, this story is set after the events of TDK, probably a few months after at least._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or the universe he lives in, though I wish I did._

Gordon sighed wearily, he hated these charity balls; and as Commissioner he was forced to attend nearly every one of them. What did partying have to do with protecting the city? 

"Hello Commissioner Gordon, back again I see." Gordon smiled at the elderly butler. 

"Hello Alfred, it's nice to see you again. How have you been?" The much older man smiled, 

"Very good sir, and yourself?" 

"I've been doing alright." 

"And how, may I ask, are your children?" 

"Much better, though Jimmy has nightmares every now and then...about that night." 

"I would imagine so, young Master Bruce had terrible nightmares for years after the deaths of his parents, though I am thankful that their deaths have not affected him much in other areas." A fake smile adorned the usually stoic face before Alfred leaned closer to the Commissioner. "You know sir; there are dozens of rooms in this manor. I might be bold in saying so sir, but I am sure there is at least one room that is unoccupied at the moment, if you need a small break from the rest of the guests." Gordon smiled gratefully and gave the older man an affectionate squeeze of the shoulder before sneaking away from the main area. 

He smiled as he reached a deserted hallway, resting for a moment as he was finally able to breathe again; the air in the other room had been so stifling. He frowned suddenly, hearing a faint groan from the room adjacent from him. 'Disgusting! Some people just had no manner or tact these days.' He thought with a grimace. 

Another groan sounded suddenly and immediately afterword a loud crash sounded through the still air of the nearly deserted hallway. 

"Alfred?" A dark voice whispered, as if the man was nearly unconscious. 

'Alfred? What a peculiar-' He thought but stopped as a pain-filled moan reached his ears.  
He rushed forward without a second thought, pushing the door open and looking around wildly for the source of the sounds. 

He found the dresser nearest the balcony window tipped over and rushed over to it, realizing it had been what had crashed moments earlier. 

From what he could see by the light of the moon, a man's figure lay beneath the fallen dresser and he began to lift it in earnest. 

The fallen man coughed weakly as the dresser was lifted off of his unmoving form.  
Jim grunted as he pulled the dresser away, setting it down a few feet away and quickie rushing over to the injured man. 

He stopped, his body frozen in place as he realized just who it was lying on the floor, still dressed in his armor and Kevlar, none other than the Batman. 

"Shit." His voice trembled as he stood shakily, rushing over to the front of the room as fast as his body would allow him. He found it after a few moments and ran back to his partner's side, cursing softly as he saw the pool of blood that had already gathered on the floor. 

"Batman? Batman can you hear me?" He whispered, afraid his voice would travel and alert the still partying guests of the charity ball. 

The hero's eyes opened slowly, shifting back and forth as his brilliant mind struggled to work around the red haze that was clouding it. His eyes locked onto the older man for a moment and he gave a small smile. 

"Go-Gordon." Batman coughed, blood spewing from his lips in small drops that fell to the floor, merely adding more to the large pool that was steadily growing larger. 

"What's happened? What's wrong with you?" Gordon couldn't hide the panic that had risen in his voice. 

The Bat's eyes shut making Gordon fear he had lost consciousness again but they opened again a few short seconds later. 

"Got too-too close to the cops. Started to f-fire at me. Fell from the building I had been scaling, then th-they set the dogs on me." 

Jim's eyes widened and he could taste the bitter bile rise in his throat, this was his fault; his own men had done this. 

"What are your injuries?" He pushed his self-pity aside. 

"Th-three shots to my lower abdomen and one to my chest." The Batman said this with perfect calm, as if he were a doctor merely assessing a patient's mild injury. 

"I've got to call the Paramedics." Gordon reached for his phone, stopping as a large gloved hand grabbed his arm and pulled it away weakly. 

"No hospitals." The hero whispered weakly, already fading into the gentle depths of unconsciousness. 

Gordon couldn't contain his anger any longer, "Well what am I supposed to do? Let you die here? Isn't there anything I can do?" 

"Alf-rd. Get Alfred." Batman's eyes shut, his head hitting the ground with a dull thud. 

Gordon hesitated only a moment before running out the door in search of the elderly man. He found him, and dragging him aside whispered. 

"I-uh. Someone needs your help." The butler seemed puzzled before a spark of recognition lit in his eyes and he followed Gordon without a word. When he had reached the scene that Jim had earlier stumbled upon he gave a small cry and rushed forward, resting on his knees as he attempted to assess the unconscious man's injuries. 

"What has happened to him?" The elderly man's voice shook as he spoke and Gordon could see his shoulders trembling. 

"Three shots to the abdomen and one to the upper chest. Along with numerous dog bites and I'm guessing cracked ribs as well." Gordon relayed the information that the injured man had given him, watching as Alfred began removing the outer-armor of the bat-suit with shaking hands. He rushed forward to help the older man. 

The butler pointed out secret buttons and latches to the armor as they removed it until eventually all that was left was a thin pair of thermal clothes the Batman apparently wore underneath the thick body plates and the cowl. 

"What do we do now?" Gordon asked, suddenly feeling helpless as his hands had stop moving and his mind was now unoccupied. 

"We take him to a hospital as on ordinary man. Are you able to keep a secret sir?" 

Gordon nodded, unable to speak as the cowl was lifted by shaking hands. A strangled groan escaped the Commissioner as he looked down at the face of Bruce Wayne. 

"I failed." He whispered brokenly, his shoulders slumped as if unable to bear the weight that now rested on them. 

"Not yet sir." Replied the other man, who had then stood up, digging through the dresser for warmer clothes. He gave the other man a small smile as he found a pair of sweat pants and a loose sweatshirt. 

"Here sir, help me place these on him." Gordon nodded and did as he asked, lifting the sweatshirt over Bruce's unconscious form and rearranging it almost subconsciously, his mind needing to be preoccupied as Alfred slipped the pants onto his young ward. 

After he had finished he grabbed Gordon's phone off the floor and dialed 9-1-1. Alfred answered all the questions expertly, nodding and hanging up the phone with a solemn air. 

"The Paramedics will arrive shortly." Gordon nodded distractedly. 

"Al-" A muffled groan called the older guardian to Bruce's side. 

"Master Bruce!" Alfred gently lifted the younger man's head into his lap, stroking his hair softly, as his mother used to do. 

"Do-don't call me that." Alfred gave him a bleary-eyed smile. 

"Yes sir. How-how are you feeling?" Bruce grimaced, 

"Not-Not so good Al." His forced laugh turned into a cough, blood again spewing from his mouth in tiny droplets. 

"Don't you worry sir, the ambulance is on its way." 

"Wh-what about the guests? What will they think?" 

"Frankly sir, I don't give a damn what they think." Bruce smiled, his head gently burrowing deeper into his guardian's lap. 

Alfred lifted tear-filled eyes to gaze at the struck face of Jim Gordon. "For the first time in my life, I don't know what to do." 

Gordon opened his mouth to say something but stopped as he heard the sirens of the ambulance in the distance. Alfred smiled and raised his eyes to the ceiling. "Thank you." He whispered.

The next few days passed in a blur for Gordon, the ambulance arriving and taking Bruce away, Alfred insisting that he go with Bruce in the ambulance so that he could stay behind and offer an explanation to the frightened guests. 

Bruce flat-lining in the ambulance and reviving only when the doctors shocked him with those electric paddles. 

Getting to the hospital and waiting for eight hours while Bruce went into surgery. Finding out eventually that he was alive, and had an 80% chance at surviving the first night. 

Sitting by Bruce that entire night in an uncomfortable hospital chair, panicking as Bruce stopped breathing. Listening to the quick talk of the nurses who revived him.  
Sitting beside Bruce again until morning, relieved when Alfred arrived and happily refusing the man's generous offer of sleep. 

And finally being able to sleep as Bruce became stable, but still refusing to sleep anywhere but in a small cot beside his bed.

Gordon stretched sleepily, rising from the small cot to sit next to Alfred in the unoccupied hospital chair. 

"Has he woken up yet?" 

Alfred shook his head sadly, "No sir, not yet." 

Gordon nodded thoughtfully, "I-I know this probably isn't the right time, but-" He cleared his throat to keep the tears from his eyes. "-I can't help but think that this is entirely my fault." 

Alfred started, turning in his chair quickly to glare at the younger man. "Now don't you start thinking that way, no one is directly responsible." 

"But it was my team that shot him. Th-that set the dogs on him." 

"Which he is partly responsible for, as he was the one to tell you to make himself a believed enemy of Gotham." 

"I suppose so." Gordon mused, "But I still feel horrible, trust me; those men are going to get hell on Monday when I see them." 

Alfred appeared indifferent, "If it will ease your conscience." He said, but there was a smile in his tone. 

A small groan came from the injured man in the hospital bed, though the two others did not start or glance at him as they were used to hearing small groans or gasps of pain that the man uttered in his state of unconsciousness. 

Another groan sounded, slightly longer and louder than the one before it and the men did glance back at Bruce this time. 

They could see his fingers twitching lightly and his brow furrowing. Alfred rushed over to his young ward, stroking his hair softly. 

"What's wrong?" Gordon asked, getting up slowly and walking over to where the other man stood beside Bruce. 

"A nightmare, he gets them frequently, although they are the worst when he is on any pain medication, as you see now." 

Gordon watched as his younger partner twisted in his bed, groaning again at the pain it caused his injured body and crying out quietly. 

"What are his nightmares about?" Gordon asked as Bruce cried out again and then whimpered softly. 

"Usually about the night of his parents murder, although not always." Alfred said, continuing to stroke Bruce's hair softly as he whispered "It's alright Bruce. Just a nightmare." 

Gordon watched, transfixed as Bruce began to calm, his frenzied movements eventually stopping. 

The two men returned to their chairs, a comforting silence surrounding them.

Gordon was forced to return to work the next day, and although he visited Bruce and Alfred often he missed the awakening of his trusted ally. 

He returned the next day, looking in the small window of the room's door and finding Bruce sitting up in his bed, dozing; and Alfred gone. 

He quietly opened the door, not wanting to interrupt the few moments of uninterrupted sleep the man was getting. 

Gordon sat down in his usual seat by Bruce's bed, content to wait until the younger man would wake up again. 

He sat up quickly as Bruce suddenly sat up in his bed, his breathing heavy and labored and small tremors wracking his injured body. 

"Nightmare?" 

Bruce nodded and buried his face in his knees, groaning softly as his stomach and upper chest screamed at him to lie back down, but how could he when he knew that if he did that he would have to face Gordon? 

He knew who he was, he knew everything now. Things that Bruce had never wanted him to know. He had appeared pathetic and weak in front of one of the only men he had looked up to. How could he look Gordon in the eye now? He would never forget the embarrassment and humiliation he felt as he realized JIM had been the one to find him, sprawled on his bedroom floor, unconscious and bleeding. 

Gordon seemed to sense this as he smiled softly and placed a warm hand on the still trembling form of the young hero. "I'm sorry Bruce; I should have never called you in. If I hadn't-" 

Bruce looked up at him sharply. "If you hadn't, then Gotham would have been lost." 

"We don't know that." 

An awkward silence filled the room, both of them shifting nervously. 

"It wasn't your fault, I knew there was a chance the cops would be there, but I took the risk anyway. I know the risks that come with doing this every night and every night I take them gladly. Gotham is my home, and as long as my father's blood runs through my veins I will continue to fight for her." Bruce stated his tone firm and strong. 

Another silence filled the room, though this time it was much more comfortable as each man was lost in his own thoughts. 

"You know-" Gordon said, "I think this will make it much easier for us to communicate from now on." 

Bruce raised his head, giving Gordon a slightly confused look. 

"Well, what with the bat-signal gone..." He trailed off. 

Bruce returned Gordon's smile hesitantly. "I guess so." He murmured. His eyes had suddenly began to grow heavy again, his eyelids closing several times before they finally shut and Bruce leaned back on his many pillows, his snores music to Gordon's ears. 

Jim knew things weren't exactly fixed between them, but they had both taken this in stride. He also knew that things would never be the same between them again, but hopefully they would change for the better.

_Tell me what you think! Bad? Good? What did you like, what did you hate? I want to know, no matter what it is!_


End file.
